Hello, hello and welcome to the last day. I’ve gone for the most obvious choice.
And last, but not least, our final (optional) prompt! In some past years, I’ve challenged you to write a poem of farewell for our thirtieth day, but this year, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem about something that returns. For, just as the swallows come back to Capistrano each year, NaPoWriMo and GloPoWriMo will ride again!
Happy writing!
Boomerang Blues
He calls her
His boomerang
She always returns
No matter
How hard he throws her
Against chairs
The table
The counter tops in the kitchen
She just bounces
Right back
Her impulse to return
to his hand
He calls her
his boomerang
she always returns
Never learns
Fire-fist-burn-fight
Bruises come and go
Come and go
Like the blue boo-hoo of the sea
And she knows
she knows
how to not show
how to arc
grow wings
so the wind stings less
She’s birch wood
Good for making chairs
Tables
Counter tops in the kitchen
She’s aerodynamic
Made for flight
And fire-fist-fight
She’s a boomerang
She will always return
to pain
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